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ellow Bills 


Hdvemture: ^ 



PUBLISHED BY 

SAM’L GABRIEL SONS & COMPANY 

NEW YORK 



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Copyrighted 

1923 

Sam’I Gabriel Sons & Co. 


MAY “9 ’23 



©C1A707383 




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ERY, very early, one morning, so early that even the 
old rooster—that alarm clock of the barn-yard—was still 
asleep, a little yellow gosling stepped out of the hen-yard and 
looked cautiously around. 





Nobody saw her but the old man-in-the-moon, and he 
never tells. Did you ever stop to think what a lot of secrets 
that old man knows and how carefully he guards them, not 
telling them to a single person? 

Well, as I said before, no-one but the old man-in-the-moon 
saw this little yellow gosling. She had made up her mind to 
run away. 

It was not exactly because she wanted to, but when she 
was picking up crumbs around the kitchen door-yard the day 
before, she heard the farmer’s wife telling a neighbor that she 
expected company and thought she would have young gosling 
for dinner. 




Little Yellow-Bill ran home breathless to her brothers 
and sisters and told them the terrible news, but they did not 
pay the slightest attention to her. In fact an old goose that 
stood nearby said, “That’s what comes of playing around 
door-yards. Listeners hear no good of themselves,” and she 
went off cackling to herself about silly young geese. 



That night when they went to bed, little Yellow-Bill whis¬ 
pered her plan to her sister and tried to persuade her to go 
too, and after quite a little coaxing managed to get her to 
say she would. But when the time came to start she was too 
sleepy and when Yellow-Bill tried to arouse her she only pushed 



her away and went off to sleep again. 

“Well, I’ve done all 1 can,” said Yellow-Bill, “and I sup¬ 
pose I’ll have to go by myself, but they need not blame me, 
for I tried hard to warn them.” 



So off on a world’s journey she started alone, a little lunch 
she had saved from supper tucked under her wing. “My, 
but everything is still,” she thought, as she crept quietly out 
of the yard. 

To get to the main road she had to go right past the 
farmer’s house, and this seemed quite risky. Just as she 
thought she was safely by, Shep, the farmer’s dog, who was 
tied nearby, jumped up and started to bark loudly. 


This frightened poor little Yellow-Bill so that she almost 
gave up the idea of running away. She sat still in the grass 
for a long time, and then, as nothing else happened, her cour¬ 
age came back, and picking up her lunch she started off down 
the road. 

She felt a little lonely at first, everything was so new and 
strange to her. This was her first journey and she was not 
just sure where she was going; but then anything was better 
than being eaten by company. 



With this thought in mind she became happier and hum¬ 
med a little tune as she waddled along. 

Pretty soon pink streaks began to appear in the sky and 
Yellow-Bill knew that the sun was ready to get up, and soon 
the top of his beautiful head would show just above the fluffy 
coverlet of clouds. 



Little Yellow-Bill often used to wish, as she watched the 
sun get up in the morning, that she had such nice fluffy cov¬ 
erlets on her bed. 

“Now I suppose they are all astir in the barn-yard,” she 
thought, as she watched the sun again. “I wonder if they 
have missed me yet?”, and the big tears came into her eyes, 
for you know, after all she was only a baby, a wee little gos¬ 
ling-baby. 





“But anyhow/ 5 she sighed, “they would miss me more 
tomorrow if the farmer’s wife has company, and then it would 
be worse than this for they would know I never could come 
back. As it is, some day I’ll come back when I’m a big goose 
and bring my beautiful young goslings with me. But we 
won’t come back to stay, only just to visit, for the farmer’s 
wife might again decide to have company/’ 

By this time the sun was up and the big trucks on their 
way to market kept rumbling past until poor little Yellow- 
Bill was quite nervous trying to keep out of their way. 

Finally she came to a sign-post, one side reading, “FOX 
MEADOW 4 MILES,” and the other, “DIVIDING CREEK 
3 MILES.” 




After a little while she was able to make it out by 
ing very slowly. 









“Let me see,” she said, half out loud, “Fox Meadow! 
The meadow part sounds fine, but about the FOX—I don’t 
think it would be quite safe. Maybe I’d better go the Divid¬ 
ing Creek way. There may be a fox there, but the sign does 
not say so,” and so she turned and started down the new road. 

She found it very pleasant as there was a nice cool shady 



path through the woods. This she followed, feeling quite con¬ 
tent, nibbling at little bits of grass, getting her breakfast 
as she went. All the time, however, she held fast to the little 
lunch she had brought, thinking that perhaps later on she 
might be hungry and food scarce. 





“Oh dear,” she cried, “What’s that?”, as a rabbit darted 
up out of the grass in front of her, “I should think that he 
would at least say ‘excuse me.’ I’ve had so many scares this 
morning my nerves are all unstrung. I think I’ll just sit here 
in this mossy little spot and rest. I’m all twitchity,” and she 
sat down and fell fast asleep. 

How long she slept little Yellow-Bill did not know, but 
presently she awoke to find a big furry creature that looked 
like Shep, the farmer’s dog, standing over her. He was so 
near that she could feel his hot breath on her face and she was 
so frightened she had to swallow hard to keep her poor little 
heart from jumping right out of her mouth. 



Just as she thought that this terrible monster was about 
to eat her up, he grinned and said, “Don’t look so frightened, 
little one. Nobody is going to hurt you; at least not while 
I’m around, and I mean to look after you very carefully from 
now on. How does it come that such a young creature as you 
is traveling alone? Or, perhaps you are not traveling. Maybe 
you are lost. Where is the rest of your family?” 

He was so big and strange-looking, and asked so many 
questions that poor little Yellow-Bill became all confused. 



“No sir,” she said, “I’m not lost,—not exactly—I runned 
away—and my family is home eaten by company,—and— 
and—” at that she burst into tears. 

“Well! Well,” said the big creature, “That’s too bad now— 
eaten by company. What a dreadful thing that must be. 
Suppose you just walk along with me and tell me your story. 
I’m sure you must be rested by this time.” 




“Yes, I’m quite rested now,” said little Yellow-Bill, “but 
I think I had better not go along with you as my mother always 
taught me not to trust strange persons, and I don’t know 
who you are. You might be old Bushy Fox for all I know and 
when I was least expecting it you might eat me for dinner.” 

“Oh no, dear little one. I’m not Bushy. I know he has a 
very bad reputation, and he well deserves it, eating all the 
young chickens, ducks and geese he can find. No! No! I’m 
not Bushy and I’m sorry to say he is a relation of mine. I’m 
‘Reddy,’ and a gentle person who bothers no one.” 




“I have a very cosy little home back in the wood, and if 
you come along I’ll show it to you. Perhaps you would like 
to be my housekeeper. I’m without one just now.” 

“He seems very pleasant,” thought little Yellow-Bill, “I 
don’t believe all foxes are bad. At least I’m sure this one is 
not,” and she got up and stretched herself, flapped her wings, 
and was ready to walk along with her newly-found friend. 


“I’m so glad that I came along when I did,” said Reddy, 
“there are so many disagreeable creatures prowling around the 
woods, you might have had a shock from which you would 



have found it hard to recover. Now, as I was saying,—my 
housekeeper, Molly Cottontail has suddenly disappeared; just 
where she went nobody seems to know. She was a very good 
little housekeeper, plump and clean, but she had no brains. 
Now you will be just the right person, for you have brains.” 

Poor little Yellow-Bill! This was just the thing she lacked 
or she would never have been fooled and puffed up with pride 
by the nice speeches of this sly old fox. 

“And now,” continued the old fellow, “tell me all about 
yourself and why you ran away.” 



With all confidence, little Yellow-Bill told Reddy her story, 
and he sympathized with her, telling her what a cruel old 
creature the farmer’s wife was, and how much more pleasant 
it would be for her in his nice comfortable home. 


By the time she had finished her story they had reached 
Reddy’s home. The entrance was in a pile of rocks, carefully 
hidden by a lot of bushes. 

Reddy looked around to see that there were no strangers 
in sight, then said, “My dear, you see I must take care of you. 
You are such a little mite. When you grow up and are nice 
and plump—my, but you will be a joy to me.” 

This last speech took away all fear that might have been 
in Yellow-Bill’s foolish little head, and she walked right in. 

It was dark and scary inside, and little Yellow-Bill could 
not see a bit at first. Then, after a while, her eyes became accus¬ 
tomed to it. 


“Sit down and make yourself comfortable while I get some 
supper” said Reddy, “I’ll open this window and let in some 
air and light,” and he pushed aside a stone in the wall. 



Yellow-Bill was quite disappointed, as Reddy’s house was 
not nearly as nice as she had supposed it would be. It was 
a dirty, untidy place. She looked around and then said to 
herself, “Well, it’s just like a man’s housekeeping. Tomorrow 
I’ll just get at it and clean it up good. Then we will live very 
nicely.” 



“Supper is ready,” said Reddy, and he set on the table 
some new cabbage leaves, corn and herbs. 

They ate silently, Reddy grabbing his food and seeming 
to put more in his mouth at one time than it would hold, and 
making queer noises as he ate. 

“I’ll have to teach him table-manners,” thought little 
Yellow-Bill, “but I don’t mind, anything is better than being 
eaten by company.” 

After supper Reddy cleared the things away, and when 
Yellow-Bill offered to help him he refused, saying, “No, thank 
you, not to-night, you are too tired. To-morrow you can begin 
as my housekeeper. And, if you don’t mind, I’ll just take a 
stroll out in the moonlight, smoke my pipe, and see what 
is going on. You need not wait up for me, but go to bed any 
time you please.” 


When he had closed the door after him and Yellow-Bill 
heard him bar it, she began to feel afraid, and wondered if 
after all she had better stay. And then thinking of her mother 
and sisters and brothers in the nice sociable barn-yard, she 
began to cry, and when Reddy Fox came in that night and 
went over to see if she were there, he saw tears on her little 
cheeks. 



“Well!”, he said to himself with an ugly chuckle, “I see 
where I have to be extra nice to ‘little foolish-head’ if I want 
a nice big fat goose for my dinner sometime. She may decide 
to go back home and be eaten by company, and I would then 
have to eat young gosling, though I much prefer goose—a 
big one,—and maybe a lot of goslings too.” 




Next morning little Yellow-Bill was awake very early. 
She decided, as she waited for Reddy to awaken, that she 
would tell him she thought she would go back to the farm 
as she was so lonely. 

Pretty soon he stirred and got up. “Hello, little Yellow- 
Bill, did you sleep well last night?” he asked. 

“Yes,” said Yellow-Bill, “but I was so lonely, I just cried 
until I fell asleep.” 

“Did you?” said Reddy, “Well, Well! that is too bad. 
Suppose we have our breakfast outside this morning, and 
then we will see what amusement we can find today,” and 
opening the door he let in a flood of sunlight. “There now, 
don’t you feel better?” he asked. 





i 


“Yes, I do,” said the little gosling, “but I think I’ll start 
back home after breakfast for I’m sure my mother will miss 
me.” 

“What about being eaten by company?” said Reddy in 
his sly way. 

To this Yellow-Bill made no reply. She did not know 
what to say. 

“I’ll tell you,” said Reddy, “after breakfast we will take 
a walk. I know a fine pond where we can both take a swim. 
Then if you still want to go home I’ll see what I can do; and 
if you think you wish to stay longer and will tell me just how 
to go to the barn-yard, I’ll take a message to your mother. 
How does that sound?” 




“Well, I’ll try it,” said Yellow-Bill, “for at least another 

day.” 

And so, after they had breakfast, had taken a walk and 
a swim, Yellow-Bill, little thinking of what might happen, 
gave Reddy full directions how to get to the barn-yard with 
a message to her mother, and he started off on a trot, with a 
wide grin on his face when he thought of what he would do every 
time he visited her home. 

“It’s very good of him!”, said Yellow-Bill, “I’ll surprise 
him when he gets back by having the house all cleaned up, 
and a good supper waiting.” 




So all day she was as busy as could be, and she was quite 
tired when, with supper ready, she sat down to wait for Reddy 


to return 







When he did come Yellow-Bill was quite disappointed 
because he said he did not want any supper. 

“I’m so tired after that long walk to the barn-yard,” he 
said lying down. “It took my appetite away.” 

Yellow-Bill then ate her supper alone, and in silence they 
were soon off to bed, long before the moon came up to peep 
in the window or the little stars twinkled and nodded to each 
other. 


Next morning Reddy did not have much to say to Yel¬ 
low-Bill as she bustled around getting breakfast. Even foxes 
are ashamed sometimes of the naughty things they do, and 
after breakfast he took his pipe and newspaper and pretended 
to read, every once in a while glaring up at Yellow-Bill as she 
put the breakfast things away, made up the beds, and straight¬ 
ened things generally. 

Yellow-Bill, as she glanced at him, thought in her foolish 
way that he was mighty fine and handsome. 





They lived this way for a long time, Reddy going and 
coming as he pleased, very often to the barn-yard, from which 
place he returned with accounts of how fast the goslings were 
disappearing, making Yellow-Bill feel that she was lucky 
to have left. 



Always, though, when he returned he wanted no supper, 
and she wondered at this, but decided that it must be the 
long walk that tired him so that he could not eat. 

One morning at breakfast Reddy slyly remarked how 
fond he was of nice fresh eggs. 



Now this was just the needed suggestion, for Yellow- 
Bill, not little Yellow-Bill now, for she had grown to be a fine 
big goose, had found a shed nearby in which were quantities 
of all kinds of feathers, and here she had been secretly laying 
eggs, on which she intended to set when she had enough. 

That evening when Reddy came home to supper he was 
surprised to find two nice fresh eggs there for him. 

“Well! Well!”, said he, smacking his lips, “How I love 
fresh eggs! Where did you get them?” 






“I laid them myself,” said Yellow-Bill. “I have made a 
nice nest for myself in the wood-shed and there I will hatch 
my young goslings.” 

“Just what I had hoped you would do,” said the Sandy 
gentleman, smacking his lips as he thought of the goslings. 
“Now I will take care that you have plenty to eat and drink, 
so you need not worry. Just take good care of your eggs.” 

And Reddy did bring her plenty of corn and water, and 
with the exception of a little walk in the sunshine every day, 
Yellow-Bill never left her nest. 



Then one morning a shell cracked and out came a little 
gosling; and before long all the eggs were cracked and the 
very proud Yellow-Bill was busy sheltering the wiggling little 
things, but she kept them all under her wings, so they would 
be nice and warm and would get strong. 

That night when Reddy, looking very spick and span, 
looked in at Yellow-Bill, she was very proud to tell him of 
her splendid family. 



Reddy rubbed his hands together and smiled such a know¬ 
ing smile it quite pleased foolish Yellow-Bill, who thought 
Reddy was as pleased with her family as herself. He was, but 
not quite the same way. 

“Well,” he said to himself, “I guess my time has come 
for a good feast. I’ll invite some of my friends in and show 
them that after all I was not such a fool to keep that silly goose 
around so long. I’ll go over to farmer Grig’s garden in the 
morning and get some onions. Plenty of onions in the stuffing.” 

“Plenty of onions in the stuffing,” he repeated to him¬ 
self, as he got his supper ready. 







Early next morning he went off to the farm to get some 
herbs and seasoning before anyone was around. He well knew 
that he was not very safe if farmer Grigs should see him, and 
he gathered all he needed as quickly as possible. 




Once out of sight he did not hurry. “I’ll take my time this 
morning as I will have a busy day to-morrow getting the old 
goose ready. I’ll let the goslings grow a little before I eat them.” 

Thus he mused to himself as he walked along, never dream¬ 
ing that anything might happen to upset his plans, but one 
never can tell. There is a saying, “Don’t count your chickens 
before they are hatched,” and that is exactly what Reddy 
was doing. 

Yellow-Bill had remained at home so willingly all the 
while she was with him that Reddy never dreamed that she 
would not always stay right there. But he had not counted 
on her pride. 



As soon as the sun was up that morning, Yellow-Bill 
took her wonderful goslings and started off to visit her cou¬ 
sin, Lady Anne, who lived in a very select neighborhood not 
far away. 

“My, but she will be surprised to see my fine family,” 
she thought, and she stopped at Reddy’s door to tell him 
where she was going. Much to her disappointment she found 
that he was not at home. At first she was going to wait until 
he returned, but thinking it might be late, and being so anxious 
to show off her family, she decided to go on. 



She was quite tired out when she reached her cousin, the 
goslings being so interested in everything that she had quite 
a hard time keeping track of them. 

As she had expected, her cousin was very much surprised 
and interested in her family; but when Yellow-Bill told her 
where she had been living she flapped her wings and gave 
great shrieks. 



“You are not going back to him,” she cried, “he is the 
worst old rascal in the country. That is why our master has 
put all this heavy wire around. Reddy came here every night 
and carried off either a chicken, a duck, or a goose. He had 
better not show himself around here again as there are traps 
and guns waiting for him.” 

“I think you must be mistaken,” said Yellow-Bill, and 
she told her cousin how she had met him and about her life 
since, ending up with, “And when he saw my fine family last 
night, he was delighted and said that it was just what he had 
hoped I would do.” 




“That’s just it,” said her cousin, “and when you are as 
old as I am, and have hatched as many young goslings, and 
had as much experience in losing them, maybe you will not 
be so trusting. Certainly he hoped you would do it, and then 
he could have many meals. He would have eaten you long 
ago only if he ate you he would only have one meal, while if 
he waited, he knew he would have many. And as to taking 
messages to your mother, I suppose he has eaten her and 
every one of your brothers and sisters too, unless your master 
has fixed the place so that he could not get in.” 



Poor little Yellow-Bill then ’ remembered that Reddy had 
never been able to eat any supper on his return from his 
many trips to her old home on the farm. 

“Oh dear! Oh dear!—My poor children! Whatever shall 
I do?” she cried. 

“Do?” shrieked her cousin, “you silly creature, don’t 
go back!” 

“But I have no place to go; and the shed was so com¬ 
fortable,—and I had the nicest feather bed.” 



“Ugh!”, said Lady Anne, “and I don’t suppose you ever 
stopped to think how he got so many feathers. Now if you 
care to you may stay here. Luckily you are of the same breed 
as the rest of us and I’m sure the farmer will be glad to have 
you. You see, he sends all our eggs to market and sells them. 
And another thing, this is one place that Reddy never both¬ 
ers. He is too wise. So you can feel sure that he will not come 
after you,” 



So Yellow-Bill and her family made their home in the 
farm-yard with her cousin. 

That night when the farmer came out to feed the poul¬ 
try he was quite surprised to find a new goose and nine beau¬ 
tiful goslings. 




“It beats me!”, he said, scratching his head, “I can’t 
see where that old goose and the little goslings came from. 
I didn’t know that anyone around here had the same kind 
that I keep. However, I’ll not turn them out, for if they have 
strayed away, old Reddy would only be too anxious to look 
after them,” and he closed and locked the gate for the night. 

And now we’ll leave Yellow-Bill and her family, happy and 
free from harm, and go back to old Reddy. 




When he came back from his morning walk, he went 
straight to the wood-shed and was very much surprised to 
find it empty. It did not trouble him much at first for he could 
not believe that Yellow-Bill would go away. He thought that 
perhaps she had taken her family down to the river, and he 
sat down to read his newspaper and wait. 

When late afternoon came and they did not return, Reddy 
began to get hungry and cross. “When she comes/’ he grum¬ 
bled, “I’ll teach her a lesson about going away that she won’t 
forget.” Finally he ate his supper of some food he had in the 
larder and then went off prowling. 



“She could not have gone very far,” he muttered, as he 
walked along, “I’ll bet she has gone over to that fancy poultry- 
farm across the river. I know they are on the lookout for me 
over there,—at least they were for a long time,—but I’ll just 
take a look around there tonight. I have not called in such 
a long time they may not be expecting me. And if I just once 
get hold of that ungrateful goose and her family — ” and a 
wicked smile came over his face as he thought of what he 
would do when he had them safe in the shed once more. 



But the farmer had never let up watching, and that night 
when Reddy went prowling to find Yellow-Bill and her family 
he discovered this, for just as he was about to crawl in under 
the fence, something suddenly snapped, and Reddy found him¬ 
self held fast. He tried in every way to free himself but could 
not. Finally he became exhausted and lay very still until the 
farmer found him next morning. 





“Ha! Ha! My fine fellow,” said the farmer when he saw 
him, “you will go prowling in other people’s yards, will you?”, 
and he took him, trap and all off to the wood-shed. 

What happened there I don’t know, but one day soon 
after that, when Yellow-Bill and her family were walking out 
that way, she saw what looked to her like a very familiar fox- 
skin nailed on the wood-shed door. 


THE END 



















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